


Forever - it's long time

by ellenvictoria



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ghost Louis, Homophobia, Immortal Harry, M/M, Reincarnation, demon, infinite love, it may take a couple of hundred years
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-11 07:49:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellenvictoria/pseuds/ellenvictoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has been 17 for a long time. He was born in 1632 and he meets Louis 1780. They will find love in each other, Louis dies too young and Harry will live forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I'm ready to post this, but I'm really excited, ok?

Harry is 17. He has been 17 for a while now. He knows he should keep growing with every year, add a number to his ages every time that day passes.   
But he is not growing. Everything stopped and Harry’s heart is no longer beating. Everything around him changes, but he remains the same.   
He was only 13 when he got sick, the year was 1645.   
As long as he could remember it had only been him and his sister, together through fire and dark, never leaving each other’s sides. Harry had no memory of someone else who had ever held him loved like his sister did, it had always just been them.  
Gemma had sometimes told him the stories, when he wanted to know who they really were. She would tell him how their parents had been really poor, even before Harry was born and that they just could not afford to feed another child. When Harry was about a month old, she had heard them talking one night, about leaving him on the street and hope that someone would find him.  
Gemma was young but she was not stupid. She knew a lot about how their world looked like and she understood that no one would pick up a child from the streets, everyone had enough of their own problems. If you left a new born baby on the streets, there was no question about that you left it to die.  
And Gemma could not leave her baby brother to die. He was the most precious she had. He had come as a tiny light, brighten up the darkest of times to give her hope and she swore that she would always protect him with everything she had.  
So she did the only thing she thought could save him. That night she scooped their last bread in a bag, together with some worn clothes and carried it with Harry, leaving their house and parents for good.   
She did what she had to do to protect Harry, she never stopped. Today, all those years later, Harry would hate her for it, for never putting herself before him, and for believing Harry’s life would be worth living without her. He hates her for leaving him.  
They lived like thieves on the streets. Wandering around, never staying at one place for too long. They tried really hard to live like honest people, but they learned to at least put their own well-being first. Every time one of them would come home with a stolen loaf, Gemma would make him pray, pray for forgiveness for the sin. They just did what they had to do to survive.  
Sometimes they would be lucky, it turned out that not everyone with gold in their pouch was greedy and selfish. There were families that happily would open their doors for two young orphans. They would let them sleep in warm beds, and eat of their food. They could sometimes take them in as their own but they never stayed. Harry could never really understand why they could not stay where it was warm and safe, where they stomach never had to be empty and they always would have clean clothes.   
“Taking their thoughtfulness for granted, would not be very polite, Harry,” was all Gemma said when she woke him up in the middle of the night and they once again sneaked out with nowhere to go. He would think that leaving this caring couple in the middle of the night, not even with a good bye, was very polite either. “We cannot count on them to love us, we have only got each other. It’s only you and me, little brother.”  
Harry wishes Gemma had remembered those words when she had decided to leave him. It was no longer the two of them, it was only Harry. All alone with no one to count on or no one to love him.  
When he got ill, things got harder for them. For a starter, they were convinced things were going to get better. It was just a cold, it happened that people would recover from that. But when he after a year only had become worse, they knew things were not looking bright.   
It was harder for them to move around, but Gemma made sure he would never have a hard time, and she made sure he would never see how hard this was on her or how much she really fought.   
He did notice, he noticed how she was she never slept more than a few hours, or how she gave him almost all of her food.   
“Please stay,” he would murmur through his coughs when she would leave him at night. “I don’t want to be alone.”  
“You are all I’ve got, little brother, I cannot let you die,” she would answer before she left their hiding place. Leaving him all alone, trying to get some sleep while wishing with all his heart that his sister would be back in the morning. She always was. Right there, holding him tight and feeding him with whatever she would find that night.   
She would give him herbs and weird spices. “This will make you good again,” she said. She would give strange sorts of things, to drink, sometimes while reading out words in languages Harry did not understand, “I swear, this is going to work,” she said every time.  
“Who could have guessed I would make you become a proper witch, Gems?” he would smile as he drank the disgusting substance, without making a face to show that he would disapprove, just to make her happy.  
“I’m not a proper witch until I can make this work,” she sighed.  
“You know they will hunt you down if it does,” Harry said. “I cannot live without you.”  
“And I cannot live without you, I will always do what it takes to make sure you are safe.”  
What was the big problem though, was the she would never understand that he would give his life to protect her, too. And that he too would never want to live without her. She would never listen. “I am older than you, Harry, it is my job to make sure that you are alright.” Sometimes she would say that it was her fault he was living like this, that she never should have taken him away from his parents.  
“No, Gemma, I am alive because of you, and I will forever be in debt because of that. Please, I can take care of you too.”  
“Harry you are sick,” was all she ever said, and then she left before he would see her cry. 

She took him to a priest when he was 16. She was holding his hand tight in hers, while she was leading him up towards the small church.   
“It is no use, Gemma,” Harry said when he understand where this was going. “There is no chance they will help us when we have nothing to pay them with.”  
“Don’t worry, little brother, I’ve got this covered,” she said with no other explanation, and forced him to follow him towards the gate.   
The priest had no friendly face. He was an old man who Harry would never want to trust with his problems. “He is good, he is a man of God,” Gemma said. Harry never told her he had given up the hope of that there was a god, a long time ago. The priest looked strictly at the brother and sister, dressed in rags, as they nervously approached him.  
“How can I help you?” he said with forced smile.  
“My brother is very ill, please help him get well again,” Gemma spoke as carefully she knew how and Harry stayed loyally by her side. “Please, he is all I have.”  
“Why would I help you?” the priest asked, “What good would I get from that?” and that was it. Harry knew this would happen, no one would give without getting anything back. It was no use in even asking.   
“I have money!” Gemma said and Harry looked at her in surprise as she pulled out a big leather pouch from the inside of her jacket. That was not right. They did not have any money, where had she got these? “Please help him,” she said and handed the pouch over to the old man, before Harry could stop her.  
“I will pray to the man himself, and hope he will do his best to get your brother well,” the priest said after inspecting the coins in his hands. Gemma thanked him a thousand times before they left, Harry did not say a word but felt himself becoming furious.   
“Where did you get all that money from,” he asked when they were out of hearing from any living, and pulled his hand away from hers.   
“I have been saving for this for a while,” she confessed, and Harry had no idea from where she would get money to save, in the first place.  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked with his lips tight pressed together.  
“If I had told you I had the money, you would never let me give them to him,” Gemma said as a matter of fact.  
“Of course I wouldn’t,” Harry yelled. “Do you have any idea of what we could have done with that money? We could wear real clothes! We both would be able to eat ourselves full, for months! And you just throw that away to a stranger!”  
“I did not just throw it away, Harry! I bought you your life back!” she was yelling back and tears fell down her cheeks.  
“But it is not going to work, Gemma. I am going to die.” Harry felt his own eyes filling. “I am going to die, and you are going to be alone, you could have used that money to let yourself have a good life, when I am gone.”  
“You are not going anywhere!” She said for what felt like the millionth time. “I cannot live with myself if I know I have not tried everything there is, to make sure you will be good. This might work, and we won’t ever know, if we have not tried.”  
It did not work.  
He was 17, going 18 and they both knew he did not have much more time. It was a matter of days, maybe only hours.  
“Please don’t go out tonight,” he said when Gemma was about to leave. His biggest fear was to die when she was not there, to die alone and for her to find his empty body when she came back. “Please don’t leave me,” he begged.  
“I won’t leave you,” she promised and kissed him on his forehead. And then she left.  
Harry fought with every power he had in his body, not to fall asleep. He had to be awake when she came back. He had to see her one last time. He fought so hard, but his body was weak and eventually his eyelids would close themselves and force him into a worried sleep.  
When he woke up, the sun had yet to rise. But to his relief Gemma was sitting right next to him, carefully pushing his hair through her fingers.   
“I am so glad to see that you are back,” he smiled at her, “For a moment I thought you had left me.” And he knew he was stupid, because Gemma never really left him. He sometimes wished she would, leave him behind and give herself the possibility to have a good life. But he knew she could not do that, just as he could never leave her.  
“I am going to leave soon,” and it is not until then he sees she is crying. “I just had to say goodbye.”  
“No,” Harry shook his head, “Please don’t, I only have a few days left, don’t let me die alone,” he cried.  
“You are not going to die, Harry,” she said desperately and held him tight in her arms. “I am not going to let you die!”  
Harry tried to stay calm, not get mad at her pertinacity. “Please don’t leave!”  
“I love you so much, Harry,” she said, ignoring Harry’s beg. “So, so much,” she soothed.  
“Don’t leave,” Harry cried again.  
“I have to,” she said, “I have to protect you.”  
“You cannot protect me from this, please don’t leave me alone.” He held on as tightly as his weak body would allow, trying to force her to stay.  
“I know you are going to live an amazing life, and I am so sorry I won’t be there to live it with you,” she cried and Harry wanted to scream but no sound would come from his throat. He was going to die, and there was nothing no one of them could do to stop that. There was no life left for him to live.  
“I love you so much, I hope you will forgive me one day,” was the last thing Harry heard his sister cry out, before his body gave in and he lost all his strength to hold on to life anymore.

He woke up the next day, and she was gone.  
The air felt fresher and he found it easier to breathe. The sun shined brighter than he had seen it do in years. The thick, heavy ache in his head was gone and he felt free. He moved his legs and his arms, he tried to stand up and let out a cry of relief. His body felt lighter than it had done in years, he could walk around, without the feeling that he would fall over.  
For the first time in years, he felt good. He could feel the strength again, and for the first time in a very long time, he felt hope.  
With a huge smile on his, he sat down and waited for Gemma. Everything was going to be alright, he was good again! He refused to believe that she actually had left, she would always be back again. She would never leave him. She always came back.  
But when the sun set that night, she still had not made it back.  
After a few weeks, a started to wonder if maybe he had actually died. Maybe he was just a ghost, waiting for his sister to come back. But why would she come back, if she had seen him die. What if she would come back, but would not be able to see him, since he was a ghost.  
But he was not invisible to human beings. This much was proved to him when the owners of the house they had been hiding in suddenly came home and yelled at him for being a thief. He had managed to run away and it was not until then he believed that Gemma had spoken the truth when she had said she was going to leave.  
And if he really was dead; why would he feel hunger? Why would he still feel the need to sleep? His sister, the only one he had, had abandoned him, left him all alone with nowhere to go.

When three years had passed when he came to the realisation that something was not right at all. When the year was 1657, he should be turning 25. But not a single bone in his body was changed, his face looked just the same and he was not growing older. He still looked and felt as 17 as he had done seven years ago.   
And so did he do ten years later.  
He stopped counting years, coming to realisation that maybe he was going to stay 17. They was no use in telling someone you are 50 years old, if you looked like a child.

It was 1780 when he made it to the mansion.  
He had kept his life as it had been with Gemma, never staying too long at the same place, always keep moving. To begin with he had tried to find her, but when 100 years had passed he had to realize that she had to be dead a long time ago.  
And he was not. He was still young and 17, to healthy for someone who was living on the streets. Everything was moving and changing, and Harry stood still. He might be immortal but a day never passed without him feeling dead. Empty.  
He had tried to get rid of it, leave it all behind. The world changed so fast, it was hard for him to keep up, it started to feel like somewhere where he did not belong. It was no longer the England he once had known as his home.  
His sister, the only one he had ever had, had left him all alone in a world he did not know. She had just left him and he was so mad. He spend so many years being so mad, how could she do this? Why would she leave without him?  
I hope you will forgive me one day… After trying to kill himself eleven times, only to wake up the next day without even a single small wound, he decided he would never forgive her.  
The mansion was a bit grander than anywhere he had ever worked before. He usually found a place where the master was willing enough to take a young orphan as him, in. Stayed maybe a few weeks, never longer than a year, made some money, and then he was off on the roads again. He could not risk staying for too long, did not want to the attention he would get, if people would notice he would not age in line with the times.  
“How old did you say you were again?” The master of the mansion asks.  
“Seventeen, sir,” Harry answered unfailing.  
“Don’t you have a family you would rather be with, than work with mine?” There was something with this man he did not run into a lot. He looked at Harry with concern, like he was sorry Harry had not been better protected.   
“No, sir,” Harry took a deep breath. He had learned a lot about people during his years, this man looked like someone who would put family values high up on the rank. He probably had a family of his own that he would protect with all his might. And never leave to live alone. “My parents abandoned me and my sister when I was just a baby. My sister past away just a year ago, sir.”  
“I’m sorry to hear about your loss,” the man said and unlike few, it really looked like he meant it. “I would love to put you on a trail for a month, Henry. We are in need of new people on the kitchen, and I am pretty sure we can find you somewhere to sleep.”  
“Thank you so much, sir, I promise I won’t let you down!” Harry made a grateful bow, as his new master stood up from his chair.   
“I sure hope you won’t!” He said strictly, to show that he was always to be treated by respect. “Roger will show you around,” he made a gesture towards his own personal servant, standing by the door. “He will also give you somewhere to sleep. Make yourself feel at home, and you will start working tomorrow morning.”  
“Thank you,” Harry said one last time, before he followed Roger out of the door.  
“Harry, was it?” Roger asked.  
“Henry!” Harry was quick to correct. He always made sure to use a new name when he let for a new destination and right now he damned himself for choosing a one so similar to his real one.   
“Whatever,” Roger muttered and that was about it for Harry to know exactly what kind of servant Roger was. The kind that did whatever it took to be loyal to its master and probably would not even blink before selling his own children to satisfy his master. This was not the kind of person that was trustworthy as a friend. That was always good to know.  
Roger showed him the kitchen and he was presented to the rest of the workers. He walked him around the mansion, made sure to put some extra care in mentioning where he as a kitchen servant were allowed to be, and not.   
“Eyy, Roger!” A young voice yelled behind them, speaking to Roger in a way Harry never would have dared. “Who is this?” A young boy stopped in front of them, looking Harry up and down, just like Harry was watching him.  
“This young man is going to work in your father’s kitchen, Mr Louis,” Roger said with his lips pressed in a thin line.   
“That is amazing!” the boy said and Harry could not remember how to form words. “I’ll guess we will see a lot of each other then, I love the kitchen!” he smiled at Harry.  
“Let me remind you, Mr Louis, that this man is here to work for your father, and not to be a part of your games,” Roger said before Harry had figured out how to talk.  
This boy was unlike from anything Harry had witnessed in his whole life.  
“Don’t mind him, he takes work a little too serious,” the boy said to Harry, ignoring Rogers dissatisfied expression. “I’m Louis,” the boy held out his hand.   
“Harr… Henry!” Harry when I finally remembered how to talk, and gave Louis his shaking hand.  
“Nice to meet you, Harrny! That is a very unusual name!” And with that Louis run of down the corridor.   
“No one would be hurt if Master would let his children learn some discipline,” Roger sighed as he took off again.   
But Harry loved it, he thought as he followed Roger. He loved how free this boy was, having the possibility to grow up to be anything he wanted to be. In most home he had stayed in, the children were raised not to talk to their servants as equals, but Louis was not like that. No one was telling him to stop.  
Harry never stayed for too long at the same place, and he had no plans in stop living like that. When he had stepped inside the gates to this huge house, never had he thought that everything was going to change. He had been dead for a while now, and never had he believed that he would ever feel alive again.   
But this were where everything was going to change and it had everything to do with that feather haired boy with eyes blue as the sky.  
They year was 1780 and it was the year when Harry met Louis.


	2. Chapter 2

It did not take long for Harry to realize that this was not a bad place to live at. Just the first morning, he is set for a stressful day, it is always like that the first day. He is new, no one likes the new kid, and he is just in their way, and slows down their work.

But that is not the case in the Mason mansion. In charge of a kitchen was a big, cheerful woman called Magda. Just the fact that a women was in head was a surprise, if woman at all had jobs in mansions like this, they were usually cleaning, or slaves. But Magda was the big head in the kitchen, and she made sure that Harry would fit in as he liked.

“I’ll let you work in your own pace today,” she said when he entered the kitchen that morning. “You can just observe as you like, and then help out when you feel like you get it, alright sweetheart?” She smiled down at him and gave him a pinch in his cheek. He got this a lot, treated like he had no idea of how to work in a real kitchen. It is not like it is usual for a seventeen year old boy to have experienced dozens of kitchens just like this.

What he had not run into before though, was a women like Magda, and he felt honoured to work in her kitchen.

“Alright, thank you,” he gave her an appreciated smile and watches her get on with her work.

There are two more boys working in Magda’s kitchen. Brady and Michael, both of them like Harry, young and left alone without a family. The mansion is like a home for them now, and Harry feel a tug of jealousy. He really wishes he had the possibility of something like that, to have some where to belong.

He watches them work for the first hour, but quickly felt a bit useless, he was not used to just standing there and watch other people work while he was doing nothing. But they made it be okay, and tried to explain what they were doing, as they were working.

Just when Harry had had enough of just standing around, and wanted to be a part of their work in the kitchen, he decided to help Magda with the stew she was preparing for the lunch guests. He was reaching for a pot on a the top shelf, he is up on the tip of his toes and he is stretching his arms high over his head when he high pitched voice surprises him and he loses his grab of the pot all together.

“Good morning!” Louis says sprightly behind him, and hopes up to sit on the counter, right next to where Brady is working.

“Oh to be rich and young,” Michael sigh somewhere in a storage, “Just to sleep how much you want! Morning was two hours ago, Louis.” They all laughed, and Louis smiled too. It all felt like a regular occurrence, Louis being around in the kitchen. Harry realized fast that he had not lied when he said he liked the kitchen.

And that too was something new; how the master’s son was treating their employees like equals, and they seemed to do the same. How Louis playfully ruffled Michael’s hair when he passed him, carrying supplies.

“You know I would love to help you, Mickey, but I think me around knifes, would not be such bright idea,” he said with a simple shrug.

“You are not touching any knife, not in my kitchen!” Magda warned with a stern voice, pointing waving the knife she had in her hand, in Louis’ direction. Louis only shrugged again, like to say ‘Told you so!’

Or how, when Louis yelled at Magda over the kitchen, asking if he could have some bread. Harry was surprised that he would even ask for permission, but even more surprised when Magda denied him. “You are having breakfast with you father in an hour!” she said.

“But I’m hungry now,” Louis pouted where he sat on the counter, legs swinging back and forth.

“You look like a 20 year old baby,” Magda shook her head and Louis rolled his eyes at her, and Brady who was laughing, next to him. Harry laughed too, could not help himself. And now for the first time that day, Louis looked his way.

“Hello Harry,” Louis smiled at him. It had been years since someone had addressed him as ‘Harry’, and it felt weird and it was a bit frightening. But Harry didn’t correct him, because firstly servants were obviously never to talk against their masters. But it also felt really nice to actually be addressed as himself again. “How are you today?” Louis had seemed to forget all about that he was supposed to be hungry.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Harry mumbled, could not quiet remember how to properly use his voice, “sir,” he quickly added. He almost regretted it when both Louis and Brady rolled their eyes, in sync.

“Don’t ever ‘sir’, this one,” Brady said, just as if it was just another one of their kitchen rules. “He doesn’t deserve it.”

“He’s right,” Louis said with a serious smile, “I’m useless.” And again, Harry could not help a laugh slip out his lips. “So you are doing well, with everything here?” Louis said to Harry.

Harry nodded, he hadn’t really done much yet, to judge. But he blushed when he suddenly remembered, the pot on the top shelf. He hoped Louis did not notice his flustered cheeks and how his eyes flickered upwards.

But of course Louis noticed, and of course he laughed at him. “Here,” he said and jumped off the counter, he left the room just for a second and came back with a wooden stool. He stood on the stool and reached up for the pot, giving it to Harry.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, again. And okay, it was not really fair, for Louis to so easily lift down the pot, because firstly, he was shorter than Harry. But also, it was Harry’s job to do that, Louis should not need to help him. But then, Louis did not really seem to mind.

 

Harry had never fitted in in at a new place, as fast as he did here. No one looked weirdly at him because he was the new boy, but treated him like one of their own. Around noon he was working as he had never done anything else.

“I am impressed,” Magda tells him a week or two later. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought you have been chopping apples for hundreds of years.”

And if Harry blushed the reason for it could easily have been caused of being complimented for his technique. And that would not be entirely a lie, Harry liked to occasional attention, he liked to impress people. He knew a beginner in a kitchen, should not know this so well, but it is only fair that he gets something good out of living alone for literally an eternity.

“Maybe I was doing this in a past life?” He smiles up to her while his hand is still working fast with the knife. Magda walks away from him, shaking her head and actually giggles.

“Or maybe you were a murderer in your past life?” Brady says somewhere behind him, “Chopping up dead bodies?”

“Let’s not be jealous, Brady-boo,” a voice says, just by Harry’s ear, making him jump.

Louis does that a lot; showing up in the kitchen when he expects it as least. Or maybe he should star to expect Louis to show up all the time.

“Are you flirting with older women, Harry?” Louis says low enough for only Harry to hear.

“No,” Harry says and blushes, but not for the reason Louis would think, “I’m only making sure people likes me.” He does not bother to try to tell Louis that he is actually older than Magda.

“You seem to have no problem doing that, making people like you,” Louis says, and then he is gone again.

 

He is done for the night, the next time he sees Louis. He has lived in this huge house now, for a while, and he has never felt more at home anywhere else. Still he has trouble finding his way, out to the stable where he sleeps. He has not got used to the maze of corridors and somehow he always ends up in the wrong place.

He still have not got used to Louis. He seems to be everywhere, and he always smiles at him like he actually is someone. As a servant he is used to being treated just like a piece of furniture.

He knows he has managed to get lost, when he sees paintings he cannot remember he has seen before. It has been a long day and he really just wants to get to his bed, but apparently his head is not with him anymore. He remembers how Roger had told him his first day, about how there were places he was not allowed to be at, and he is pretty sure this corridor might just be one of them.

He turns around to make his way back to the kitchen, but then he hears voices, and moving shadows tells him that there are people coming his way. Panicking, he opens the first door he sees close to his right and jumps in to the room

The day is not in Harry’s luck and the door did not lead to a storage where he could hide, but a big, furnished bedroom. And he is not alone.

Louis sits on the floor, just by the huge window. He stares out and has his arms wrapped around his legs, looking smaller than Harry has ever seen him. He tries to close the door quietly behind him, but fails and Louis looks up at the sound.

“Harry?” Louis looks surprised to see him, but perks up a bit. “What are you doing here?”

“I am so sorry, sir,” Harry blushes, “I got –“

“Stop calling me ‘sir’,” Louis sighs deep, before Harry even can explain himself.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles, “I’m sorry for disturbing, I got lost.” He turns around to leave, but Louis speaks again.

“You got lost?” Louis sounds amused, so different from just a minute ago, “You are probably the most intelligent person that has set his foot in this house, and you are telling me you got lost?”

“The most intelligent person that has set his foot in this house?” Harry frowns, “I don’t know, but this _house_ is just a little bit bigger than I am used to, and I am really tired. And probably not that intelligent.” He knows he should not be here, but his feet are not moving and Louis keeps talking.

“You seem smarter somehow,” he shrugs, “Like as if you know and has seen so much more than anyone else I have ever met.”

“Why is that?” his feet are still not moving, so he might as well talk.

“I am not sure,” Louis looks at him intensely, like if he tries to figure something out. “I just have this feeling, that there is something real special hiding behind that mask of orphan kitchen worker.”

Harry does not really know what to say, he feels somewhat exposed. He is not used to people watching him this closely, he is not used to acknowledgment at all. He wonders why that is. “Are you alright?” he says after a while, because Louis like this is not anything to the Louis he had seen before.

“I am bored,” he says, looking out of the window and Harry thinks he might not talk just about boredom right this moment. “There is nothing here for me.”

Harry stands still, still not sure of what to say. He thinks about leaving but something is stopping him. Louis looks so vulnerable, and Harry remembers that feeling. And he knows how it feels when people just leaves when he wants nothing but to be held.

He takes a few cautious steps further into the room. Louis looks up at him, and he stops, unsure of if he is crossing the line. But he does not frown at him, asks him to leave, instead a smile bursts out in his face, like he just remembered something good.

“Hey, do you want to do something?” he asks.

“Yes,” Harry nods as he yawns, “sleep,” he says, and let out laugh.

“Oh,” Louis looks disappointed. “Are you tired?”

Harry nods again. “It’s really late, and I’ve been working all day,” he does not really understand how Louis could not be tired.

“Sorry,” Louis sighs and Harry is not sure of what he is apologizing for, “You should get some sleep.”

He thinks about leaving, he knows he should. “You don’t look like you want to be alone.” He hesitates a bit before he sits down next to Louis, on the floor.

“I don’t,” Louis sighs again. “But I don’t want to keep you awake either,” he says.

“It’s alright,” Harry says and shrugs, “I sleep every night.”

“I wish I could do that.”

“Do what?” Harry frowns.

“Sleep.” Louis only says.

“You don’t sleep?”

“I try, but it is so hard,” Louis mumbles as he looks out the window. “How do you fall asleep?”

“I don’t know…” Harry is surprised, maybe even choked, to see this Louis. He wonders if he has been exchange against an identical twin, or something like that. “I have not really thought about it. I guess I am always just really tired, so I just falls asleep.”

“Of course you’re tired. You work so hard every day,” Louis rolls his eyes, and Harry is pretty sure he did not want him to see that, but he does.

“It is not like I choose to work hard every day,” he says. There is no point in being irritated, he is used being treated like if he enjoys working.

“Just like I don’t chose to live like this,” Louis snorts and takes Harry back in surprise. “I know what everyone believes, ‘Oh my daddy is rich and I have a big house and a warm bed and I don’t need to do anything, I must be so happy’!”

“I don’t think that just because your father is rich, you have to be happy,” Harry says after a while, and Louis looks at him with a confused expression.

“You don’t?” he asks softly and Harry shakes his head. “You don’t think I am ridiculous for being miserable?”

“That depends,” Harry says and Louis looks at him hopefully, “What are you miserable for?” Louis swallows hard and looks out the window again, instead of answering. “It’s not because your bed is your bed is not soft enough, because you want more food, or something like that, is it?”

“It’s not that,” Louis mumbles and shakes his head.

“Then I don’t think it is ridiculous,” Harry says and tries to smile at Louis. He leaves it there, waits to see what will happen, maybe that is it. Maybe he should leave Louis to think alone, it does not seem like he has anything more to say.

“Thank you,” he says then, just when Harry is about to get up.

“For what?”

“For not thinking I am a pretentious, spoiled brat.” Louis says simply.

“Louis, you are probably the least pretentious person I have ever met,” Harry explains. “In most places I have worked, owners, and owner’s kids are too ‘proud’ or too – as you call it – pretentious and spoiled, to even look like someone like me.”

“Someone like you?” Louis frowns.

“Exactly!” Harry says, “You don’t look at me, or anyone else of your servants, as if you are better than us. I’m not used to it, I’m used to be invisible as long as I do my job.”

“But they are not better than you?” Louis pouts, which makes Harry laugh.

“You are probably the first person I have ever heard say that,” Harry smiles at him. “You are too nice.”

“I don’t know…” Louis looks down at his hands, “I just don’t understand why I should treat anyone bad, when they have been nothing but good to me, you know?” Harry nods. “It just gets so lonely…” he murmurs.

“Is that why you are around in the kitchen so much? Because you feel alone?”

It takes a while before Louis says anything, he just stares out the window and Harry begins to wonder if he even heard him. But then he nods. “I just wish… I would have a friend, you know?” He blushes out of embarrassment as he looks up to meet Harry’s eyes. “Is that so stupid?”

“No!” Harry is quick to shake his head, “And I know what you mean. I feel it too.” He has been feeling dead for years now and has been convincing himself that he had forgot how it was to feel. He realizes now, that he still feels as alone, as he has done since the night Gemma left him.

“You want to be my friend?” Louis suggests.

“Are you sure you want to be friends with me?” Harry is unsure. He is unsure about what it means to have a friend, and what it would be like to have someone who cares about you. Mostly he is scared.

“Why would I not?” Louis frowns.

“Because I am just an orphan servant without a home, and because I work for you?” Harry raises a brow.

“I am not better than you,” Louis shakes his head and looks back out the window. “And you do not work for me, you work for my father.”

“Yes I know… Sorry,” Harry sighs, “I am just not used to this. Where I have been before, you would definitely be too _good_ even talk me…”

“If anything, you should be the one not wanting to talk to me!” Louis laughs a bit. “I mean, you are working to survive, you must be so strong. And I am here, getting everything I need without even raising a finger. You are so much better than me…”

If Harry did not know better, he would have thought Louis was much older than 20, somehow he saw so much of his own miserable and sadness, in Louis’ eyes. He looked so sad and tired, and Harry wondered how he would not have noticed it earlier. He felt so stupid for missing it, behind that big smile he had been showing off any other time he had met him.

“I am no better than you, Louis,” Harry says, “I am working because I have to, to survive. You just happen to been born in a better place than I, that does not make me better.”

“Thank you,” Louis says again, and this time Harry does not ask why. Sometime when they had been there it had started to rain, but it was barely visible, in the dark night. It would really be good for Harry to get up and get some sleep. But he does not want to leave.

Suddenly there is a knock on the door, making them both jump on chock. For a moment Louis and Harry just stared at each other, frightened. Harry was not supposed to be here.

“Get under the bed!” Louis hissed between his teeth. He just manages to get himself underneth the bed that Louis throws himself on top off,  when the door opens.

“Good evening, Mr Louis,” Harry recognizes Roger’s voice.

“What can I do for you, Roger?” Louis says shortly.

“I was just making sure you were asleep, Mr Louis,” Roger says.

“Why is that, Roger?” Louis keeps his tone short.

“You know you should not be up too late, Mr Louis.”

“No I don’t know that,” Louis says, “But I do know that it is not your job to tell me what to do.”

“I thought…” Roger stutters, “I thought maybe you would like some tea.”

“No thank you,” Louis snorts, “If I would like some tea, I could get some myself. You do not need to bother me.”

“Alright, well. Good night Mr Louis,” and then he backs out of the room again.

Louis hangs his head down the bed, looks at Harry. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry says as he crawls out from under the bed. “What was that about?”

“I don’t know…” Louis watches the door from where Roger had just met. “It is something strange with that man.”

“I figured he was just a very loyal servant..?” Harry frowns.

“No,” Louis shakes his head, “That is just what he wants father to think. But he does not come to check if I am asleep, he has never even liked me…”

“That did seem strange, yes,” Harry says, and Louis smiles at him.

“It did, didn’t it?” And for some reason Louis starts laughing, and it is hard for Harry not to jump in, too. “You should probably go back to yours,” Louis says then.

“Right,” Harry smiles, “I’ll try not to get lost this time.”

“I’ll follow you,” Louis jumps up, and follows him to the door.

They make there way out, and Harry feels a bit stupid for not finding the way earlier. Louis made it seem easy, but on the other hand, he had lived here is whole life.

“I can find my way from here,” Harry smiles.

“Alright, I guess I see you tommorrow then,” Louis says and Harry turns around. “Harry, wait?” He hears Louis say after a while.

“Yeah?”

“Could I…” Louis blushes and looks down at his feet. “Could I like, have a hug?”

“Umm…” Harry feels his own cheeks get warm too. “Um, yeah, sure.” He takes a gingerly step forward, not really sure of how he ended up in this situation. Louis practically throws himself in Harry’s arms, and harry don’t really know what to do. It has been decades since he was this close to another human being and it is strange.

But Louis is warm next to him and after a while he allows himself to relax. His head falls down on Louis’ shoulder and Louis’ arms grips tighter around his back. He takes a deep breathe, and feels Louis do the same. He feels more relaxed then he have done in a really long time.

“Good night Harry,” Louis whispers.

“Good night, Louis,” Harry pulls away, and makes his way to the stable. He cannot help a smile creep up his face, and it has been a while since he did not need to force it.

Maybe finding a friend would not be so bad, maybe that is just what he needs. And maybe this is what it feels like, to for the first time in his life, have somwhere to belong, a home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me what you think, and you can too read this on my tumblr [sailingthebullshitship](http://sailingthebullshitship.tumblr.com)


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